


The Mask

by achievemenhunter



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Dom/sub, GTAV AU, M/M, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 15:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1555244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achievemenhunter/pseuds/achievemenhunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin has worked for Geoff's crew for years now, procuring and creating the explosives that were used for the gang's bigger jobs. In all that time, he's learned next to nothing about the crew's mysterious hitman, Ryan Haywood - not even what his face looks like, because for whatever unsettling reason, the man wears a skull mask at all times. </p><p>Most people would respect the privacy of someone in their line of business that chose not to show their face - especially someone with as high a body count as Ryan - but, well... Gavin's always been too curious for his own good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mask

**Author's Note:**

> Another for the giveaway! This one's a GTA5 AU Freewood for NattieBug. :)
> 
> (Also, totally because I felt I owed you guys a longer fic after not posting for a week and not because I don't have an iota of self control, but this one tops off at just over 4,000 words. Oops.)

Despite being an integral member of the gang, Gavin rarely saw any action. Rather, along with Michael, he was in charge of procuring and creating the explosives that were used in bigger jobs. Michael often went along on these missions as the pyrotechnics overseer, to make sure the explosions went off when they were supposed to. Gavin didn't begrudge him this.

 

Michael was very capable, able to react to something unexpected and make snap decisions, not to mention his capability with a firearm.

 

Gavin, on the other hand, had a tendency to panic and make bad choices, and was a terrible marksman. He was a liability on the field, and he knew it, but he was still content with his lot. He didn't particularly fancy the idea of being shot, anyway. And just about every other member of the crew had been shot at some point or other.

 

He remembered one particularly dramatic time when Ryan, the crew's up-close-and-personal hitman (for when Ray's sharpshooter skills weren't _quite_ enough to get the message across), had staggered into their hideout, blood streaming from no less than four different bullet wounds.

 

"Job's done," he said simply before sinking to his knees.

 

Gavin had been the only one in the front room, and immediately rushed forward to help the injured man, momentarily forgetting how unsettling he usually found Ryan. This fear wasn't without due cause; Ryan was a very intimidating person. No one knew his exact body count, just that it was very, very high. He dealt in death like some sort of avenging angel, wearing a skull mask that covered his face except for his eyes, piercing blue framed by black greasepaint and that fearsome dark grey skull.

 

Gavin had spent years quietly (and on one near-disastrous occasion, not-so-quietly) making various explosives and incendiary devices for the crew, and not once in that time had he seen Ryan take off that mask. Even now, when Gavin called out for help and a few of the others ran into the room, together hauling the bullet-ridden Ryan into their infirmary, the hitman refused to let them take the mask off, only letting the crew medic, Caleb, tend to his injuries once they'd assured him they'd leave the mask alone.

 

Another thing about Ryan that perturbed Gavin was his nearly nonchalant attitude towards pain. He swore once or twice under his breath when Caleb pulled a bullet out of his body, but otherwise was silent, not even wincing when the medic started to stitch up the wounds. Gavin could only shake his head, in awe that Ryan could be so unflinching in the face of what had to be a considerable amount of pain, not dulled by any sort of analgesic or alcohol. Caleb had offered Ryan both, but he declined, obviously not wanting to lift even the bottom of the mask to swallow something.

 

All in all, the man was an unnerving, closed off mystery.

 

Which was why Gavin found him so utterly fascinating. If Gavin wasn't quite so intimidated by the hitman, he'd even go as far to say that he'd developed a rather serious crush, even though he'd never seen the man's face. Or maybe that was part of it. Apparently, being tall and broad shouldered with nice hair and blue eyes was enough for Gavin, visually. As it was, Gavin kept his feelings to himself, but all this seemed to do was fuel his inquisitiveness. Why did Ryan wear the mask? Was he hideously disfigured? Was he someone well-known, leading a secret, murderous double-life? Gavin was too terrified to actually ask him, so there was nothing he could really do except let his burning curiosity fester.

 

One day, he couldn't take it anymore. The curiosity was going to make him burst.

 

He started asking around, going through the members of the crew to see if anyone knew what the mysterious hitman they worked with actually looked like. Jack, the gang's delivery man, was a bust. So was Kdin, their field communications specialist. Even when he went to join Michael in actually doing his job, he still didn't find any answers. Dissatisfied, he made his way to the armoury, where in all likelihood, Ray would be, cleaning one gun or another. He was not disappointed, and plonked himself down on a corner of the table that Ray was using that was free of gun parts.

 

"Have you ever seen his face?" Gavin asked, legs swinging as he watched the other man disassemble his beloved pink rifle.

 

Ray kept his eyes on his weapon. "Who?"

 

"Ryan, you dope. You ever seen him take off that creepy mask?"

 

Sighing, Ray picked up a cloth and started wiping down the first piece. "No, I haven't. No one has."

 

Gavin looked put out. "Oh. I thought, maybe, because you actually go on missions and do the dangerous stuff, you might've seen him properly..."

 

"Look, man, I'm pretty sure even _Geoff_ doesn't have a clue what he actually looks like. Really, though, that's your best bet. I'd ask him."

 

But that avenue turned out to be a dead end, too.

 

"He does his job, I don't ask questions. It's how you deal with people like him." Geoff twirled his moustache absently. "As long as he keeps doing what he's doing, I'm going to respect his privacy." He eyed Gavin shrewdly. "What's with the sudden interest, Gav?"

 

The Brit shrugged, making a vague gesture. "Nothing, I was just curious. I don't like not knowing things, I dunno. It just bugs me." He smiled briefly. "Sorry for wasting your time, Geoff."

 

"Ah, was only a couple of minutes, don't worry about it."

 

Gavin smiled again, a little awkwardly, and he was conscious of Geoff's gaze on him as he left the older man's office.

 

~* * *~

 

Less than a day after Gavin had started asking the others about Ryan, the man himself cornered Gavin in one of the hideout's many storage rooms, blocking the doorway with his broad shoulders and menacing mask.

 

"I hear you've been asking questions about me."

 

Gavin gulped and backed up, letting out a small squawk of surprise as he ran into a shelf. He immediately regretted moving back as Ryan stepped further into the room, closing the door with a forceful click and cutting off Gavin's only exit.

 

It was amazing how expressive Ryan could be without any part of his face visible apart from his eyes. The aggressive curve of his shoulders, the forward tilt to his head, the furious set of his eyebrows, low over icy blue eyes that seemed to be boring into Gavin's soul, all told the Brit that Ryan was more than a little pissed off at his persistent questions.

 

So did the gun Ryan was now pointing at him.

 

Gavin's hands shot up in a pleading gesture at the sight of the weapon, backing further into the room as Ryan advanced on him. He let out a small whine as he reached the corner, pressed up against a shelving unit and a bunch of hard plastic crates.

 

"Who are you working for? Are there others? How deep does this go?"

 

"I'm not a rat!" Gavin squeaked, sweat forming on his brow from both the proximity of Ryan's gun, and the proximity of those dangerously cold blue eyes. Gavin felt like he was transfixed, mesmerised. He barely dared to blink.

 

"Oh really? Then who do you care so much what I look like?"

 

"I-I just wanted to know! I was just curious, I'm sorry Ryan, I won't ask anymore, please!"

 

He let out a sob as Ryan stepped even closer, gun coming up to trace the curve of Gavin's cheek. The touch was soft, almost gentle, which made it all the more terrifying. It was like Ryan was letting Gavin know how little effort it would take for the hitman to hurt him, to kill him.

 

"Who are you working for?" Ryan said smoothly, voice devoid of anger yet still sending chills down Gavin's spine.

 

"I only work for Geoff, I swear on my _life_. I've been here for years, you know that!"

 

"I've taken down people that've been in deep cover for a lot longer than that."

 

"I swear on my life," the Brit repeated weakly.

 

At this distance, Gavin could pick out all the different shades of blue in Ryan's irises. He thought how stupid a time it was to be noticing how pretty Ryan's eyes were. How there was an irregular dark blue fleck in the bottom of the iris of his left eye, matching the colour of the darker outer ring. How the small imperfection was actually more attractive than if his eyes had been perfectly symmetrical. How that crystalline blue was framed by thick brown lashes that fanned out around the pleasing shape of Ryan's eyes.

 

 _Oh bollocks_ , Gavin thought succinctly as those eyes suddenly hardened further and Gavin realised that he'd completely missed whatever Ryan had just said. The hitman suddenly dragged Gavin forward by the collar and then slammed him back against the shelves, roughly jamming the gun against Gavin's throat. Gavin couldn't help but gag at even the slight crush against his windpipe. Ryan's hand was still on his collar, warm against Gavin's skin through the thin material of his shirt. The heat seemed to spread through Gavin's chest, pooling in his stomach and coiling with a mix of fear and desire.

 

_No. Not now._

Gavin desperately tried to deny his body's reaction to Ryan's proximity and his own rough treatment, but it was a simple fact that the front of his jeans were getting tighter.

 

He'd often fantasised about Ryan in a sexual context, overpowering Gavin, holding him down and watching him with sharp eyes from a face that was always, in Gavin's mind, a bit of a blur. Gavin never thought he'd actually be in a situation like this, though it wasn't exactly how he'd expected. After all, Ryan certainly wasn't making any sexual overtures, and the whole scenario was far more life-and-death than Gavin was comfortable with. But apparently his body didn't give a damn about the difference, erection straining painfully against the front of his pants.

 

"You know, for someone that's acting so terrified of me, you're not paying a whole lot of attention," Ryan hissed.

 

Gavin flinched as he realised he'd blanked out on Ryan again. "I'm sorry, I just- I got distracted, please Ryan, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

 

Ryan found a space in his anger for incredulousness and raised an eyebrow. "Distracted? You must be dumber than you let on if you've managed to get distracted from the fact that I'm holding a gun to your neck." He pressed the weapon a little harder against Gavin's throat for emphasis.

 

"No, no, that's not- I didn't mean- I'm sorry, _please_ -"

 

"You realise that the only way you're leaving this room is as a corpse."

 

Gavin whimpered briefly.

 

"It's entirely up to you how much pain there is between that point and now," Ryan continued. "I mean, it's kind of a given that I'll make you tell me who you're working for, so it'd be best if you save us both the effort. And you better make up your mind fast - time's a-wastin'."

 

The Brit trembled in Ryan's grip, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes but so far refusing to fall. He still had that shred of dignity, at least.

 

"I would never betray Geoff like that," he whispered, voice wobbly. "Please don't kill me."

 

"So that how you want it to go, huh?" Ryan said softly, his tone almost regretful. "Don't say I didn't warn you." Gavin cried out as Ryan heaved him away from the shelves, probably to give himself more room to work, but stopped the motion halfway through as his leg brushed against Gavin's front. The younger man cringed in horror at being discovered. Ryan's eyes went from grim to surprised, his hold on Gavin loosening and allowing the Brit to fall back against the shelving unit with a slight clank of shifting metal.

 

"Looks like I've jumped to some conclusions here," Ryan said at length, gun still against Gavin's throat but without any of its previous pressure.

 

"I just... I wanted to know what you looked like." A blush mounted Gavin's cheeks, the collar of his shirt dishevelled and his chest heaving.

 

Ryan tapped him on the shoulder thoughtfully with the gun before tucking it away. "...Well, after all that, it's the least I can do." His thumb slid under the lip of the mask, pushing it to the top of his head. Then, with a twang of the elastic band that held it against his face, he lifted it away.

 

Gavin sucked in a breath. Ryan didn't look like Gavin had expected. He wasn't someone famous, or horribly scarred; in fact, he was quite handsome. Not in a classical sense of the word - even with his height and broad shoulders, Ryan could probably blend into a crowd without too much trouble, a searching eye easily passing over him. It was more that as Gavin actually focused, he noticed the pleasing arrangement of Ryan's features, the way they seemed instantly familiar, like Gavin had always known exactly what he looked like. A strong, straight nose, a gently curving jawline, those blue, blue eyes still ringed with black greasepaint, and soft lips curled up in a smirk.

 

_Oh no I think I've just officially fallen in love with him._

 

"Why d'you wear it?" Gavin blurted, too glad that he didn't accidentally speak his mind to be embarrassed at his own impetuousness.

 

Ryan looked down at the mask in his hand. "To protect the people I care about. My parents, mostly. They're good people, and they have no clue what I actually do for a living. They think I have a normal life, that I work in IT." He smiled fondly. "I've certainly fixed their computer enough times to sell that idea. But a normal life was never an option for me; it was never going to be enough. Still, I didn't want to hurt them, didn't want them - or other people - to think it was somehow their fault, that they must have done something wrong raising me. They're wonderful parents, they don't deserve that."

 

"That's... actually really cool, Ryan. Better than my idea that you were famous and leading a double life, or that your face was really messed up or something."

 

Ryan let out a chuckle at this, honest and not as deep as Gavin had expected. With a jolt, Gavin realised this was the first time he'd ever actually heard Ryan laugh.

 

Without any seeming sense of conscious direction, Gavin stepped away from the shelves and cut off Ryan's laughter with a kiss. A second later, he realised what he was doing and sprang away, horrified. "I'm sorry, Ryan- I-I don't know what I was thinking, I-"

 

The hitman chuckled again, backing Gavin up against the shelving unit, grabbing onto the shelf either side of the Brit's head. "I think you've done enough apologising for today. Besides, don't you think if I didn't reciprocate your feelings that I probably would have killed you anyway? Honestly, half the reason I was angry was because I thought I was a better judge of character." He smirked, and then his mouth was on Gavin's, bodies pressing together. Gavin felt the shelving unit digging uncomfortably into his shoulders and his tailbone and the backs of his knees. He didn't care in the slightest. Ryan was kissing him, Ryan felt the same way he did, and he couldn't be happier.

 

Adrenaline was still pumping through the Brit from being held at gunpoint, and it was making him hyper aware of every touch, every inch of Ryan pressed against him. He moaned into the older man's mouth, fingers struggling to find purchase on the back of Ryan's leather jacket, and ground his hips forward. Ryan broke away from the kiss with a pleased grunt, hands grabbing at the collar of Gavin's shirt and working at removing the article of clothing, struggling a little with the buttons.

 

"God, these fucking dress shirts of yours," Ryan growled against his ear. "You make explosives for a living, you look ridiculous."

 

Gavin sensed there was no real malice behind the words, more frustration as Ryan was impeded by the buttons.

 

Deciding undressing the younger man the old-fashioned way was too inefficient, Ryan simply grabbed Gavin's shirt either side just below the collar and jerked the fabric in opposite directions, the buttons flying off and hitting the ground with an altogether satisfying plink before rolling away underneath the shelves. Ryan's fingers slid under the opening in the fabric and over Gavin's shoulders, pushing the ruined shirt down the younger man's arms. Gavin arched his back away from the shelving unit to let the shirt fall, very deliberately pressing himself against Ryan. He could feel the other man hardening even as Ryan shoved him against the shelves once more, fingers digging into Gavin's back and mouth leaving dark bruises against the younger man's neck. Gavin wormed his hands into the small space between them and pulled on the zipper of Ryan's jacket. The older man shrugged out of it easily, mouth briefly leaving Gavin's neck to pull his t-shirt over his head. Gavin cast an admiring glance at Ryan's abdominal muscles. Of course, the job demanded that Ryan be in good physical form, but Gavin hadn't realised just how seriously Ryan took that. He blushed, a little embarrassed as he compared his own physique to Ryan's. Sure, he was very slender and had some lean muscle, but next to Ryan's toned body, he was practically scrawny.

 

"You better not be comparing us," Ryan murmured, seeming to read Gavin's thoughts. "Because I want you just the way you are." He popped the button on Gavin's jeans and undid the zip, one hand sliding in to knead Gavin's cock while the other yanked at his own belt. He pulled it free, tugging Gavin forward and turning him around, bending him over the large weapons crate next to the shelving unit. The plastic was cool against Gavin's bare torso, and he was inordinately relieved that the crate wasn't made of wood instead. Ryan wrenched sharply at Gavin's pants, pulling down his jeans and boxers in one go.

 

Gavin shivered in anticipation as Ryan leaned over his back, kissing along his spine. The Brit felt fingers at the corner of his mouth and opened it obediently, slurping and suckling at the digits, tongue flicking against the webbing between Ryan's fingers. After letting Gavin soak his fingers as Ryan rutted lazily against his bare ass, the older man moved his hand away from Gavin's mouth and placed the wet fingers at Gavin's entrance.

 

"Let me know if I get too rough with you," he said seriously. The Brit whined and tried to push himself onto Ryan's fingers, but Ryan's other hand was on his waist, pressing him against the crate, and he couldn't move. "Gavin."

 

"Don't worry about me, love, I like it rough." The sensual voice Gavin was going for didn't quite mask the keen of desperation. Ryan still seemed a little dubious, so he let out another needy whimper. "Ryan, please."

 

He moaned openly as Ryan slid a finger into him. Gavin wanted this so much, had wanted this for so long, that Ryan was able to very quickly work his way up to three fingers. Ryan had his free hand splayed against the base of Gavin's spine, the younger man writhing and moaning in his grip.

 

"Ryan, Ryan please, I need- I need you-" Gavin moaned again as Ryan's fingers slid out, back in and then left altogether, barely able to keep a grip on coherency. Still holding Gavin down against the crate, Ryan undid his jeans and shimmied out of them, pushing his underwear down and hissing slightly as his erection hit the open air.

 

He stopped suddenly and cursed angrily at himself. "I don't have a condom."

 

"I do, front pocket, Ryan, _please_ -" Gavin babbled almost frantically.

 

Ryan smirked as he bent down to rifle through Gavin's jeans, and pulled out the small square, tearing the wrapping off with his teeth before rolling the condom onto himself. "You're rather prepared for this, Gavin. Is there something you're not telling me?"

 

"I always carry one, you never know if- ah!" He cut himself off as the older man pushed into him, filling him completely in one go. His back arched and he groaned. "Oh God, Ryan," he panted, fingers dragging across the lid of the crate and catching in the grooves, clinging on for dear life as Ryan began to move into him. Ryan leant over his back and began to mark him, biting and sucking at whatever patch of skin took his fancy. His hands snaked up Gavin's sides, one tangling in Gavin's wild array of hair, forcing the younger man to turn his head and press his cheek against the crate. The other gripped Gavin's shoulder firmly, holding him down even more securely - Ryan had briefly contemplated choking Gavin a little, but quickly remembered how Gavin had gagged just from a gun being held roughly to his throat. He doubted the Brit would be able to handle it.

 

He set up a rapid pace, slamming into Gavin with such strength that the crate rocked slightly against the wall. Gavin was letting out a steady stream of pleasured sounds, begging Ryan to go harder, faster, to fill him up so much that he couldn't think anymore. The hand on Gavin's shoulder shifted, trailing down Gavin's arm and grabbing his wrist.

 

"Give me your other hand, Gavin," Ryan commanded in a voice thick with lust. Gavin complied hastily, and Ryan took both of Gavin's wrists in one hand, pinning them against the small of the younger man's back, the other hand still holding Gavin down by his hair. Gavin was now completely immobilised as Ryan slammed into him again and again, and being so entirely at the hitman's mercy was driving him crazy. He felt the heat pooling in his abdomen as he spiralled uncontrollably towards orgasm.

 

"Ryan- Ryan, I'm gonna-" He screamed Ryan's name as he jerked in the older man's grip, spilling his load against the crate. His muscles tensed and clenched around Ryan, and the sensation alone was enough to send Ryan over the edge too, frenzied movements melting into lazy thrusts as his pleasure surged. He pulled out as Gavin slumped limply against the crate, the Brit's legs barely supporting his body as his knees buckled slightly inwards.

 

Ryan slipped the condom off and knotted the end, wiping himself and Gavin off with a tissue from his jacket pocket. He wrapped the condom in the tissue and stuffed both back in the pocket to throw away later, then stood, pulling up his pants. He quickly gathered the rest of his things and put them back on, then grabbed Gavin's shirt for him and passed it to the Brit, who was still draped over the crate.

 

"You okay there, Gavin?"

 

Gavin turned his head so that Ryan could see the massive grin on his face. "I feel bloody fantastic. That was brilliant, Ryan. I can't believe I didn't just jump you earlier."

 

"You... need any help?" Ryan asked, indicating to the shirt Gavin hadn't touched.

 

"'M good." Gavin winced as he pushed himself into a standing position, but the burn of his backside almost felt good. He did groan a little as he bent to pull his pants up, but once he'd straightened he was fine. He accepted the shirt that Ryan was holding out and slipped his arms into the holes. He frowned when it came to doing up the buttons, though, seeing as only the top two were still present. "Hm. Didn't really think about it when you were doing it, but this is actually going to be kind of annoying." Ryan laughed merrily at Gavin's put-out expression, scooping his mask from the shelf.

 

"Guess you'll just have to wear more sensible clothes next time," Ryan replied with a grin. He let the implication of future sexual encounters hang in the air for a second before winking at Gavin, then opened the door and slipped his mask back on, hands in his pockets as he sauntered away.

 

Gavin smiled to himself.

 

Looks like he needed to go clothes shopping.


End file.
